


carve a suit of armour of your bones

by amako



Category: Naruto, Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Angst, F/M, Ghost Drifting, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 07:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15529404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amako/pseuds/amako
Summary: The alcohol isn't enough to mute their voices. Yet she keeps drinking; hoping, bitter, with rust on her teeth and the screams of kaiju in her ears.





	carve a suit of armour of your bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mouseymightymarvellous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouseymightymarvellous/gifts).



> This is (incredibely late and) for mouse. I really hope you'll like it.
> 
> Written for the #narutogiftexchange and the title is from mouse's own poem, "you are more than your demons//the only demons here are you" which you can find on her tumblr @mouseymightymarvellous

“You fucking pig!”

 

The sound of shattered glass makes her flinch. She stumbles, her grip firm on the sake bottle. She takes another long swallow of the drink, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

 

“Yeah, that's right! Run away, coward!”

 

Her fist bumps against her chest as she straightens. “I closed the fucking Breach, asshole. Show some respect!”

 

She wavers, unsteady. Her next step is hesitant and she looses her footing. She's about to faceplant on the floor when a hand catches her wrist.

 

“Watch it, pussy!”

“Sakura, it's me.”

 

She turns around, barely standing. She squints, her eyes clouded by the alcohol.

 

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Oh, heavens. Focus, please.”

 

She blinks and blinks again, until her vision clears enough to zoom in on dark eyes and fair skin.

 

“Ayame?”

“Yes. Now, come on. We're going home.”

 

Sakura leans on the other woman, her sake still secure in her hand. There isn't much left but she isn't going to waste it. It's a luxury, even now that the war is over. The Shatterdome is probably the only place she can find some without giving up an arm for it. Lucky for her, she happens to live in the Shatterdome.

The way back is short, if only because she was already wasted when she left her room and didn't have the coordination to walk far. Then that man looked her funny and she might have lost her calm. _Might._ She's never been known for her cool temper, so fuck them all.

 

“Get in there, go on.”

“Fuck off.”

“Sakura, don't be difficult, please.”

 

She snorts but complies silently, tumbling face first into her bed. She remains unmoving while Ayame takes her combat boots off and puts them down.

 

“Give me the bottle.”

“Piss off, seriously.”

“I'll take it from you.”

“I'd love to see you try, kid.”

Ayame rolls her eyes. “I'm older than you.”

 

Sakura rises on her elbow to look at the other woman. Her eyes are clear again, but red and tired. The circles underneath are dark as the abyss of the ocean she came back from. She doesn't say anything, only staring at Ayame, with a gaze old as time.

 

“Go to sleep, Marshal.”

 

Sakura laughs, short and bitter. Her hands deftly unclasp the straps around her shin and she takes off her cargo pants. Her prosthetic hums quietly, lit from inside with electric blue.

 

“I don't sleep, Ayame. Why would I risk it?”

 

The angry scars on her right cheek, twisting her mouth, cast blue shadows on her face.

 

“They might stop talking to me.”

 

 

 

It's weird to wake up with a hangover and have it being the least annoying thing happening. But her prosthetic is stuck in the covers and Naruto is telling her a joke about frogs that has stopped being funny ten years ago. The hangover is far from being a problem.

She rolls out of bed, tearing off a piece of the covers without an ounce of regret. The mirror in the small bathroom of her bunk is laughing at her. She pins her hair in a barely conform bun and flips the bird to her reflection. Sasuke is toying with a strand of her hair as she ties her boots. There is no stopping the shivers running up her spine.

The cafeteria is filled to the brim with life and laughter and optimism. The war is two months old, just enough to allow for wounds to heal. Small wounds, at least. The gaping abyss in her soul isn't healing any time soon.

Ayame smiles at her when she gets her tray. Sakura finds that she can't quite return it. There is rust between her teeth and her smile tastes like iron.

It only gets worst when people leave a wide space for her to seat at the table. She knows, she _knows_ that she's a legend to them, but it only feels like the plague in her brain is contaminating everyone around her. She eats her beans and ignores Naruto when he pokes at her cheek with his fork.

The cadets are waiting for her in the training room. She doesn't salute anyone when she goes inside, only grabs her practice stick and stands in position. It's two hours of kicking their asses before going back to her room. They don't stand a chance, and they shouldn't. No one should ever see the insides of that wretched Breach if she has anything to say about it.

(she doesn't say that the Breach is a grave now, a sepulture for her eyes only)

She's excused from any kind of paperwork that usually comes with being a Marshal. She's one in name only. Benefits of being one of the Sannin, the legendary trio who saved the world.

 

“Where did you get that bottle?”

 

Sakura doesn't look up from the bottom of her glass.

 

“Go away.”

“Give me the bottle, Sakura,” Ayame sighs.

 

She looks the cook straight in the eyes and empties the full litre of vodka in one go.

 

“You'll make yourself sick, heavens!”

 

Sakura puts the bottle down and rises with difficulty. Her heavy breathing fills the air with the smell of liquor.

 

“This needs to stop, Sakura. You can't keep going on like this.”

“Yeah? Watch me.”

“I know you're in pain—”

 

Ayame yells in surprise when Sakura shatters the bottle against the wall. She's panting, her eyes wide, hair falling in every direction.

 

“Do _not_ talk to me about pain. Don't you _dare_.”

“Sakura—”

“Go fuck yourself.”

 

She drops the remains of the bottle on the ground and turns around.

 

“Is there a problem?”

“Oh, dear gods. I'm glad you're here.”

 

Sakura takes a step back.

 

“Stay the fuck away. I'm serious. If you touch me, I'll break your arm.”

 

Shikamaru walks in her direction, his uniform sharp and insignia shining. She can't remember if she's seen him since the final drop. His voice is a painful echo of informations and orders, relays of whatever Marshal Senju had to say.

 

“Come with me, Sakura.”

“I'm not going anywhere. There's perfectly good sake waiting for me in my room.”

“Please, listen to him.”

 

Her shout of rage makes Ayame flinch.

 

“ _Why_ can't you _ever_ leave me alone? Both of you?”

“Come with me, Sakura,” Shikamaru repeats.

 

With a groan, she complies without looking in Ayame's direction. They walk until reaching the hangar. Sakura is so far in her anger that she doesn't notice where they are until a familiar silhouette makes her raise her eyes.

There he is. Rebuilt, repaired, repainted, ripping her heart out. _Titan Seven._

It all comes to her in a rush. The constant ghost drift she has with Naruto and Sasuke goes crazy, bombarding her with images and memories and sensations. Her own memory is hijacked by the last drop, by those few seconds in the Breach where a decision had to be made.

She doesn't realize she's crying until her face is pressed in Shikamaru's neck.

 

“You're gonna be fine. It's okay.”

She gasps. “I'm alone. All the time. I'm so _alone_. I want them back!”

“Shhh.”

 

She hides her scream in his neck, nausea twisting her stomach when she feels Naruto's fingers on the small of her back. Sasuke whispers sweet nothings in her ear and Sakura screams some more. Shikamaru gathers her closer and rocks her gently.

The rust on her teeth starts to spread.

 

 

 

Ayame is braiding her hair.

It's a foreign feeling, a tightness close to her scalp. She learnt it from a Kenyan pilot who died defending the wall of life. Now the braids are drawing pink patterns on golden skin. Sakura is doing her best to focus but she can feel herself dissociate.

Ayame has a sweet voice, a gentleness in the way she pronounces vowels. She's singing something old, something Sakura doesn't understand. The warmth it brings to the deep of her stomach is just what she needs.

The braids are short, they follow the shape of her skull, and it makes her feel clean.

 

“Do you want to tell me about them?”

 

A sentence, immediately followed by more singing, like Ayame never stopped to ask the question.

Like Sakura can choose to ignore it if she wants to.

She doesn't.

 

 

 

“I'm cold.”

 

Shikamaru looks her up and down. His hand barely touches the new braids on her head. She steps closer, and he draws her into a hug.

It's not what she wants, and he knows it. She thinks he knows, at least.

Just in case...

 

“Make me warm.”

 

He hugs her tighter, his mouth on her braids. Closed.

 

“I'm not sleeping with you.”

 

Sakura closes her eyes, hard.

Naruto is smiling behind her eyelids. His arm is around Sasuke's shoulders and he's gesturing at her to join them. Her jaw trembles.

She's cold.

 

 

 

“I'm not sleeping with you, Sakura!”

 

The emotion is so different, paired with watery eyes and flushed cheeks.

Where Shikamaru's rejection had felt like exhaustion and defeat, Ayame's is disappointment and hurt.

Shame burns on Sakura's face as she turns away.

Ayame's fingers around her wrist are overlapping with Sasuke's.

 

“You don't get to leave after asking this!” Ayame is breathing fast, closer to tears than any drunken mistakes of Sakura's has ever brought her. “You need help.”

 

 _You do_ , Sasuke whispers against her throat.

Sakura is cold.

 

 

 

Shikamaru holds her hand all the way to the therapist's office. On her other side, Naruto is playing with her thumb, engrossed in a conversation with Sasuke she's heard a thousand times before.

When they stop at the door, Shikamaru looks at her side like he can see them. Something breaks inside of Sakura. Shikamaru nods and Naruto and Sasuke nod back.

 

“Leave them with me while you're inside, yeah?”

 

Sakura opens her mouth, but Ayame appears at the end of the corridor, looking like she's been running. She joins them, not once stepping on neither of her ghosts' toes.

 

“We'll keep them company,” Ayame says, out of breath.

 

Sakura swallows hard.

She wraps her hand around the door knob, not daring taking her eyes off of her partners.

(which ones?)

 

“Marshal Haruno? Please come in.”

 

The door closes behind her. She breathes in.

Naruto and Sasuke stay on the other side.

 


End file.
